


Bottoms Up

by nightsammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Barebacking, Car Sex, Lazy Sex, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:31:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsammy/pseuds/nightsammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets noisy when he's drunk. He also likes to bottom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottoms Up

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this, I hope you enjoy it! Kudos and comments are welcomed and appreciated.

Dean can count on one hand times when he and Sam has gotten drunk together. As in, really,  _really_  drunk. After a witch-hunt in Haysville, Kansas, though, Dean decides that enough is enough. He's getting Sam drunk, no matter what it takes. With everything that's happened lately, with the Apocalypse hanging over their heads and more fighting than not, they could both use a break. Even Dean admits that.

So he pulls Sam along, ignores his complaints as he shoves his little brother towards the Impala. "We're going out, and we're getting drunk," he says, pointing at Sam as he walks around the car to get into it, himself. Usually Sam would respond with how foolish it was of Dean to drive when he knew he'd drink, but Sam doesn't say anything. The frown creases up his forehead and his mouth is set in a thin line. He doesn't talk, just sighs and rolls his eyes whenever he feel it fits in the conversation. Or is it even a conversation?

A local pub located a few minutes west from their motel draws Dean's attention, and he parks up beside it. It's small, dim lights and the smell of smoke and alcohol filling the air as they enter. Sam's shoulders are high, Dean notices. Figures he should probably have a massage, or maybe ten. Loosen up a bit. He looks out of his comfort zone, and he probably is. The whole bar-alcohol-flirting-thing is mostly Dean. Sam likes to sit in the motelroom watching TV or doing research. How that can be any fun, Dean has no idea.

"Two beers, please," he calls out for the bartender, holding up two fingers as he slides onto a bar stool, watching Sam do the same. Two beers are put in front of them, and Dean hands Sam his first before grabbing his own, holding the glass up. "Cheers."

Sam only snorts, no amusement, no smile in sight. Just takes a sip and puts the glass down. He scans the room with his eyes, and Dean knows the look, knows how Sam does this whenever they're on a hunt or doing research.

"Sammy, put the work away for like, an hour, please?" Dean sighs after a while, eyes staring into Sam's.

"Why did you even drag me here?" Sam frowns, finally meeting Dean's gaze. "If you're picking up a girl, then I could've stayed at home."

Dean just blinks and watches him. Sure, Dean was a womanizer before, but that kind of stopped when he started sucking his brother's cock. He's still interested in women, still eyes them as they walk past him, still flirts, winks and grins. He still comes watching straight or lesbian porn. It's not like he's a 100% gay. But he doesn't need the occasional one-night-stand anymore. Not when he has Sam right here.

Still, Sam's been acting weird, and maybe this is it. Maybe this is why he's putting a distance between them every time Dean tries to get close. He's jealous.

"You're jealous," Dean mumbles, repeating the words in his mind. More like a statement than a question. Sam only huffs and looks away.

"Well, uh." Dean hesitates, not sure what to say. The whole flirting thing is kind of a natural thing for him these days. It doesn't mean he wants to sleep with them. Well, sometimes it does, but he doesn't act on it. This thing with Sam, it's different. Better. "You should've said something."

"Said what? Stop being your flirty, charming self?" Sam mumbles, and Dean swears Sam's blushing. He grins.

"You think I'm charming?"  
"Oh screw you."

Dean snickers softly, taking another gulp of his beer before leaning forward, lips tracing Sam's, hand sliding up his thigh.

"Let's get drunk and then we can fuck in the car. And one more thing - for each time I flirt with a girl, you're allowed to spank me."

It sounds so stupid, saying it like that, but it has the wanted effect. Sam groans softly and presses his lips against Dean's ear, kissing it before pulling away.

"Okay."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sam's not surprised when Dean flirts with almost every single girl that passes. Dean has a thing for pain, so the whole spanking thing is more of a reward than a punishment, but Sam doesn't really care. It does just as much for him as it does for Dean.

A couple of hours passes, and they're both drunk enough that it shows. Dean slurs as bit when he talks and his neck rolls, while Sam stumbles slightly as he walks and laughs more. They could probably sit there for a while longer, but now Dean's been flirting with the same girl for what feels like an hour, at least, and Sam can't take it anymore. He's hard, and he's drunk, and he wants to bend Dean over the hood and fuck him where everyone can see it.

Instead he gets up, tips the bartender and presses up close behind Dean, hard outline of his cock pressing against Dean's ass.

"Whadda'ya say we head out now?" he mumbles in Dean's ear, and Dean throws the girl a grin before pulling Sam along out of the bar and towards the Impala.

While the whole fucking-Dean-in-front-of-everyone thing is pretty tempting, they'd get arrested if they did. So Sam pushes at Dean towards the doors to the backseat instead, urging him to move his fucking ass already. "You move like a slug," he mutters, obviously not happy with how Dean is taking his sweet time. He knows it drives Sam absolutely nuts.

There's no one outside at the moment, so Sam uses the opportunity to slide his arms around Dean's hips, kissing and biting at his neck as he yanks his belt and buttons open, then unzips and shoves Dean's pants down. Briefs follow, and then he's bending Dean forward, making him lean onto the car, ass pushed out and Sam is enjoying himself a bit too much. Knowing there could come people from anywhere around them and see this makes his cock twitch, and he grasps at Dean's hips as he shoves forward, shoving his still clothed crotch against Dean's ass, rubbing against him and rolling his hips. Dean's cock is curving up against his belly, thick and wet with precome. 

"How many women did you flirt with?" Sam asks. He has the number, he counted every single one. Twenty-six.

"Why are you asking me?" Dean pants, and Sam hears the amusement in his voice. Sam reaches around and grips Dean's cock hard enough for it to be slightly painful, and Dean groans loud. "How... many?"

"Twenty-six, twenty-six, fuck, _Sam_..."

"That's right," Sam nods, letting go of Dean's cock and instead rubbing his calm over Dean's ass, squeezing one cheek carefully. "So what should I do about that?"

"Punish me," Dean mutters, glancing back at him. "You should spank me... And then fuck me, not allowing me to come even if I beg.. And then I gotta come in my pants."

Sam loves this - when Dean's drunk enough to really not give a shit what he says, and he just pours out stuff like that. He's a dirty-talking, horny drunk, and Sam loves it so much.

"I like that idea," Sam mutters, grinning when Dean arches back against him, and then he smacks him.

_One, two, three..._

"Oh God, Sam, Sammy, harder, please."

_... seven, eight, nine, ten..._

"Fuck, yes, yes, oh shit. Shit!"

_... fifteen, sixteen, seventeen..._

"Oh, ohh... damn it, Sammy."

_... twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three..._

Dean cries out, rocking back and forth, trying to escape Sam's hand but at the same time pushing into it, wanting more. His ass is red from Sam slapping the exact same spot every single time.

_... twenty-five..._

"Was that it? Did I get everyone?" Sam asks, hand rubbing over Dean's ass, squeezing and feeling how warm it is, seeing how red it has become from all the spanking. "Answer me."

"No, not - one more..."

"What did you say, I can't hear you."

" _One more_ , damn it... It was twenty-six. Not twenty-five. I need another. Please give it to me."

"You beg like a little slut, Dean," Sam murmurs, and then he lands a twenty-sixth smack, harder than the others, at the exact same spot on Dean's ass. Dean cries out, and as he leans forward a bit, Sam can see Dean's cock standing up between his legs, twitching and leaking precome, just as red as Dean's ass is. "It looks like you need to come," Sam says matter-of-factly, and Dean only whines.

"Let me come please," he begs, pushing back. Sam shakes his head and snorts.

Instead he yanks the Chevy's door open and pushes at Dean, making him nearly stumble into the backseat. Sam follows and with a bit of shifting and turning, Dean's on his back in the seat, head propped up against the opposite door in an awkward angle. Sam crowds up against him, enough that he's able to shut the door. With his hands flying to his belt, he yanks it open, along with his jeans, and shoves his pants down lower. He sucks two fingers into his mouth and gets them wet, then trailing them down between Dean's legs. As soon as the tip of his fingers rub against Dean's hole, Dean spreads his legs wider and arches slightly against him.

He rubs them against the hole, applying more and more spit to make sure it's wet enough for him to push his fingers inside Dean. He'd rim him, but it's two grown men in the back of an Impala. He can't bend down like that even if he tries.

He slowly pushes a finger inside, letting Dean get used to it by pushing in and out slowly, going deeper and faster as soon as Dean seems to be okay with it. He adds a second, then a third finger, spreading them and stretching Dean as much as he can before he pulls his fingers out and positions himself. Dean cries out loudly when he pushes in, loud enough that anyone outside probably would hear.

He doesn't stop until he's fully inside, balls pressed against Dean's ass and cock all the way inside him. Dean adjusts slowly, face smoothing from a frown as the pain fades. Sam starts moving, and when he finds the spot inside that makes Dean groan out, he starts fucking him for real. Dean desperately tries to not touch himself, but the temptation gets to him and he reaches down. Sam's quicker than him, though, and grasps both his wrists, holding them against the car door to make sure Dean doesn't touch himself.

Dean softened a bit when Sam had pushed into him, but is now fully hard again, and by the sounds he makes, Sam's sure he'll come if Sam as much as flick his thumb over the head of his cock.

"Sammy - please," he whispers, voice wrecked and eyes burning into Sam's, desperation and need showing clearly in them.

"No," Sam replies, grunting as he shoves hard into him, nearly making Dean hit his head in the process. "You said it yourself - you're gonna come in your pants."

"Kinda... regret... that now," he mumbles in between Sam's thrusts, and they both laugh shortly before Sam presses his mouth to Dean's, kissing him hard. He feels himself getting closer as well, and he reaches down to push Dean's legs futher apart as he snaps his hips forward, going harder and faster before he cries out and comes inside Dean, nearly collapsing on top of him. It's all over way too quickly, but he's still drunk and isn't in as much control over his body as he might want. He's kind of impressed that Dean manages to control himself as much as he does.

"Zip up, we're heading back to the motel," he mumbles, doing the same to himself before he gets out of the car and into the driver's seat. He's driven in worse conditions than this. He hears Dean moan and he sees him in the rearview mirror, slowly pulling his pants up over his hard cock and zipping up.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When they finally get back to the motel, Dean still hasn't come. He barely gets time to turn to Sam before he's shoved down on the bed on his back, with Sam once again on top of him. Sam kisses his way down his neck and then crawls down between his legs. Both still fully clothed, Sam leans in and just buries his face in Dean's crotch. Rubs his cheek against the bulge of his cock, licks at the fabric of his jeans, moans like he's actually tasting Dean's cock.

Dean comes instantly, screaming out his brother's name.

 

 


End file.
